Gratuitous and Garrulous
by squibblyquill
Summary: Okay, maybe not so much talk, but a kind of playfull escapist one shot venue for Jareth and Sarah. I do not own Labyrinth.
1. Jareth the Peeve

**Author's note: for the escapist in us all and when life is full of monkey wrenches, let us all take solace in a bit of fun. Enjoy!**

"Oh, Jareth…"

Sarah lay a sated puppet in his arms. His breath wrapped her neck in warmth as her arms twined round his slender torso. Jareth grinned with devilish satisfaction.

"Yes, my love," he said as his lips moved closer to the softness of her throat.

Sarah ran her hand through his hair and decidedly yanked upward, drawing his face aloft to meet her eyes.

"Sometimes, I honestly could kill you," she spoke in an authoritatively playful, deep and sensual tone.

His face scrunched with mischievous joy at having irked and possessed her so completely.

"How fairs my little tropical depression…?" he'd caught her hand and extricated it from his hair with a slight grimace. Now his other wrist sought out the space beneath her nape.

Sarah let a blast of agitated air escape her nostrils at finding herself caught in his grip once more. The Goblin King moved for the kill and stole the jewel of her mouth, relishing as the soft bud opened instinctively at his greedy beckoning. He lingered with his willing yet irascible prey, savoring the hidden motions of her soul.

Sarah sighed as he released her lips with a teasing bite. She couldn't decide if she was ragingly indignant or entirely smitten. His hand still gripped her wrist, thwarting her attempts at vengeful rebellion.

_How dare he?_ She thought with a huff. But it was too late…he'd already run the labyrinth of her heart _and won_…

His lips took hers once more. As he cupped her mouth in the fullness of his own, Sarah's heart ached. Almost instinctively, Jareth's free hand pressed itself over her burning chest. The warmth of his life force poured deep into her core, dousing the niggling sting of all her cares and worries.


	2. Sarah's Mind Meanders

**Ooops, guess Jareth wants to play hardball, or maybe he's just not there at all. Sorry Sarah, hope you like being a masochist:**

What horrible coincidences. They were driving her slowly mad.

So it was a dream, a dream after everything. The labyrinth, its creatures, its king…

But those coincidences kept haunting her. Made it so difficult to just go back to normal life.

Sarah smacked her palm against her forehead for the umpteenth time and took a sip of coffee before diving into the next line of her research.

Halfway through the next paragraph she had to catch herself once more. How hard it was not to daydream about him!

_But he is an illusion, nothing more_, was all Sarah could tell herself. Getting it through her thick skull that Jareth was no more than a figment of her imagination was draining her beyond measure. And so far the results of her adamant efforts were less than satisfactory. _Damn this is gonna take a lot of work_.

Sarah might be soft enough to say she was heartbroken, but it just didn't make sense all things considered. How could she be heartbroken over a fantasy that never existed? Ridiculous! She was old enough now to know how to behave herself.

Five minutes later another palm smack as she caught herself imagining what his kiss might be like, and a few other things for that matter.

Sarah's palms were getting very sore. And her head had been hurting for some time.

_Damn you, Jareth. You're not real but you suck the life out of me all the same_.


	3. Lovely Little Rat

"You touched it." His face contorted in a characteristic sneer.

"Yeah."

"Why on earth did you touch it?" Jareth's voice dripped in unchecked disdain.

"It was dying. I couldn't do anything else for it."

Her mind flashed back to a rat lying convulsed in its last mortal shivers. Her fingers recalled how they'd hesitated, wondered if the creature would try to bite her as she approached the top of its head. Then the surprising softness of its fur. A dark eye staring unblinkingly, frozen in what was probably unbearable pain as its whiskers twitched involuntarily. How exposed it had seemed to her curled up on the edge of the sidewalk. At first she had wondered if it was already dead, until she bent down to inspect the weak flickerings of its chest cavity. She wished she could have taken it somewhere warm and safe away from the shoes of morning commuters and the shuffle of businessmen carrying briefcases filled with documents. _No document for this little life_…

_You are lovely, little rat_. Her eyes, her presence could not extricate itself from the vision of that fading being. The more she stared the more language drained from her mind as the life force of that wretched mammal worked itself silently into her soul.

Sarah looked over her shoulder at the still agitated Jareth. A detached peace gripped her psyche.

"Anyway, I washed my hands. I don't imagine Goblins are all that hygienic either."

"That's why I wear gloves," he stated with glowering pedantry.

_Yes, Jareth, you are a prat. We've established that fact_. Sarah held her tongue. There was no getting through to him in this state. _You are lovely, little rat_, echoed once more in the back of her mind…

She smiled, gracefully ignoring his foul temper.


	4. Escher in Reverse

Jareth and Sarah stood in the Escher room. Sarah was dressed in flowing feathers, glitter and white robes.

Jareth wore street clothes and looked extremely confused.

Sarah was holding a crystal in her outstretched hand. A fire lit up the oceanic green of her irises.

"I beat your Labyrinth. I stayed because I chose. I let you turn my world upside down. Not because I couldn't help myself, but because I deigned to give you the gift of my presence. I let myself be caught, dear Jareth—and it wasn't easy work for you, now was it? Even when I handed myself over to you heart wrapped in the gauze of love, was I ever such an easy prize to claim?"

He was silent.

Sarah continued.

"You should learn something about me right here and right now. I can cut any loss. And I can refuse any man. Or jinn for that matter. But because I saw that strange soul hiding behind your eyes, I allowed myself the pleasure of being enraptured for a time. I wanted to give you your dreams…"

His mouth remained motionless. His eyes were heavy.

"But if you dream that you are happier chasing after phantoms and wispy traces of my being, then so be it. I am not one to remain unreasonable. I shall not keep you from your solitary games."

She let the crystal in her hand fly upward as it had once been tossed before.

"By the way, dear fumbling tyrant, don't imagine your cruelty a novelty, or your callousness a surprise. What did you take me for? I was never blind to the shards of crystal protruding from your heart and mind…"

As the room began to dissolve into ruptured space and time, her last words shot softly into his core.

"My nature is not the sort which can be caught. If I am somewhere it is because I choose it. If I love it is because I will to love. If you see my soul bound taut between your fingers, don't fool yourself into thinking that your fingers are the ones doing the binding…_Learn a little humility_, Jareth…_a little wonder_…then maybe then something more than petty cruel games will bring a smile to your heart…"


	5. The Perfect Bowl

Jareth's hands slid gently over Sarah's as she flipped idly through the pages of a divan of poetry.

His chin pressed softly against her cheek.

Sarah closed her eyes as he nudged her lightly before looking back down at the page. Then a memory flared up from the depths of her old life aboveground.

"Jareth," she queried, seeing if he would respond. After all he might very well be lost in the book he kept trying to read over her shoulder!

"Yes," he breathed. No, he was paying attention to Sarah.

"When I was a young woman my mother took me to a potter. The potter taught me how to throw on the wheel, but under one condition."

"What was that?" the question echoed darkly sensual from the hollow of his throat.

"You see, he told me he would teach me to throw clay on the wheel. That he'd have me make my best pot. That I would sense it was my best. And then he would have me destroy it with my own hands. Those were his conditions for teaching me."

"And you accepted?"

"Of course…"

There was an intervening silence that fell upon the two. His hand moved lightly, reaching up to turn the page.

Sarah started again as Jareth's cheek resumed its position brushing lightly against her silken brown tresses.

"So you see, anything I make, anything I create, I have been trained from the beginning to detach myself from it, even if it is my best, even if it is what I hold dearest."

"So you crushed the pot."

"Yes and my mother cried as she watched, for she had fallen in love with it. I never made a more perfect bowl than the one I destroyed that day."


	6. Just Desserts

Jareth gulped in intuitive apprehension. Sarah had been in a strange state as of late. Thinking to himself, _oh my when that creature gets all high and mighty as she's apt to do I know I'm in for it_…_God last time she even threatened to leave the castle…but what ill can I be impugned with on this glorious occasion?_ _To what accusation do I now owe the honor?_ The Goblin King mused indulgently and then abruptly stopped himself. _**Oh…**_

_I lied to her. I led her on. I even had the gull to reprimand her, and then went on to make her believe I was gone…oh…yeah…well in that case…shucky shit fuck darn._

"Just desserts," he mumbled under his breath. His heart rate had risen perceptibly, veins fraught with leering anticipation.

"That's right, Jareth lovely honey sweetheart…JUST DESSERTS." Rang out in plump and optimistic tone.

Sarah sat cheerily tucked away in a corner Jareth would never in a million years espy. Whistling a verse of Yankee Doodle, she started up the underground facsimiles of telescreens giving her a full report on Jareth's whereabouts and every single active crystal locked onto one of her trails. Thank god for help! Hoggle had hooked her up with some real equipment gurus and a stash of heavy artillery, and Sarah was rip-roaring to go…

As the magical current began to flow, Sarah switched on her battle music. Poe. _Not a Virgin. _Laughing she began singing along to the lyrics in a throaty voice

'_Before you let another lie slip through those crooked little teeth_…_I don't think you wanna start that shit with me'_

Her hands gripped the consul, finger poised over the red glowing button. First target locked. She couldn't wait to see the expression of Jareth's face on her telescreen.

'_Careful what it is you say, cause I can see right through you on a cloudy day…and darlin' I think you wanna play…_'

Jareth had been wondering what Sarah was up to. Habitually he pulled out a crystal to check on her current condition. But all he could see was a dark cloud and vague shadowy outlines. He brought his nose in closer to the glistening sphere.

Sarah almost squealed with joy at the opportunity.

'_So if you wanna play dirty my darlin' I'm gonna win…_'

Blam. Target neutralized. Jareth's face lit up and in a flash grew painfully obscured as the crystal burst right under his nose. Glitter, shards of floating crystal and soap bubbles latched on with a fury to the corners of his nostrils, lips and eyes. He choked and sat doubled over with his gloves over his twisted mouth.

'_It's gonna be a new experience if you wanna play with me…_'

"Guards," he managed to shout still hunched over between ragged breaths.

Pop! Pop! Pop!

Jareth's heart sank. He knew what that sound was. Those were his other Sarah crystals spontaneously combusting.

_Shit, shit, shit_…was all Jareth could think. _Maybe I could have been a hair more understanding with that young woman_.

"Too late now," Sarah chuckled evilly from her secret hideaway, "What was it you always say? Oh yeah…What's said is said. I'm taking you at your word goblin bitch queen!"

Zing. Swap! Bop!

Jareth hung his head in defeated dismay. _God she got the backups_. And the throne room wall mount. And his favorite chicken.

'_Whatever dude!_'

"Humph! Now that's what you get for trying to take over my side of the castle. Maybe you'll think twice next time…" Sarah pressed the destruct button a few more times for good measure, sniggering at the havoc reeling on her screen.


	7. Post Card from Paradise

POST CARD FROM PARADISE

Dear Jareth,

You are the love of my life. But my presence is a privilege. Even though you try to sneak it, believe me I let you sneak it. And since my presence is a privilege, do take care not to abuse it. Otherwise, you will most certainly lose it. God has taken away your crystals in answer to my recent prayers. You can go mope about it. Or you can man up and be a better person for it.

xxxPassionate kisses and devilishly sweet erotic dreamsxxx

TTYL,

Sarah


	8. Sneak Peak

"Uh uh uh, no more sneaks for you, Jareth dear. Your sneaking days have ended. Best come to terms with this fact. Don't let it give you a heart attack."

Sarah grinned a wicked grin. Still she could feel the anxiety in her chest. Wondered vaguely how connected their life forces had become. _Was that his anxiety or hers_?

Who knew.

It didn't matter anymore. The game was up.

"I know, sweetie, I took away your favorite toy…and then some. Deal with it, love. My life is not your buffet anymore. You want to talk to me, you do it human style from here on out. Otherwise ciao, ta ta, cheerio…"

Eyebrow cocked, water gun at the hilt, Sarah traipsed elegantly over the lawn and back toward her house.

Jareth stood a moment longer, hair doused and dripping across his salty forehead.

_Oh, Sarah…_

His heart picked up as he noticed her turn around once more. _Maybe she'll re-nig and let us play again_, he thought greedily.

"By the way, my dearest defanged nuisance. I heard you're an excellent salsa dancer. Too bad I never got to try that one on for size…"

And she disappeared into the doorframe.


	9. Double Bubble

Sarah sat silent in Jareth's little make-shift office. Goblins scurrying idly under feet. He was being a pedant again, trying to treat her like a mental patient as he was sometimes wont to do. Sarah had played along the first four minutes, but seeing as he could not laugh at himself, she decided to cut the game short.

She'd been silent for the past forty minutes. At first he'd tried to get her to talk some more, but then he'd guessed her little trick. So he went silent too. A battle of wills.

Sarah'd been here before. Ah when she had that eating disorder as an adolescent after the problems with her mother, Karen had taken her to this hoot of a child psychologist. He'd given her the heebie-jeebies. So she'd just clammed up out of protest. The guy thought he could maybe pressure her to speak after say an hour of enforced silence, but in the end Karen had ended up the one getting psycho-therapy and Sarah had read her book in the lounge.

After all, what did creepy older men have to do with young adolescent girls—getting inside their heads, weighing them, talking about body and self-image. Yuck. Maybe Sarah was too harsh, but she just really hadn't appreciated the experience.

And now Jareth thought his little trick just might work. She could detect the impatient flicks of his fingers against his very enticing haunch.

Nope! Nope nope nope nope nope!

Sarah was just peachy and she didn't need a goblin king to tell her so.

_Ah Jareth, you hide behind hundreds of years of seniority when you yourself are just as wacked if not more so than me_.

_**Double bubble standards, mister.**_


	10. Venus

"I get to the heart of the matter. That's who I am." Jareth had looked so exasperated and yet so strangely and unduly confident when he'd uttered those words.

Sarah mused.

_Yeah, I get to the heart of the matter too. You might have thought twice before assuming you could wrap your tendrils around my dreams and not get caught. Because the deeper you press into me, the more you expose the contours of your inner core_. _Doesn't matter how deep you go boy, I am mystery all the way down. Of course, you've fallen into the well of your own deception haven't you? How does it feel to be exposed in your own world of shadows, my deep desire_?

He really was a funny nut that goblin king. A funny nut with talons. Trigger happy talons. But Sarah would be okay, she was wearing her big girl gloves now.


	11. Anthem

The sound of deep and sluggish breath joined the space between them.

Jareth inclined with bare torso, gently stroking his beloved cheeks. His face glowed with love, but his eyes sat weary and deeply pained in their sockets.

Sarah meditated on the delight of having his naked skin pressed against her longing frame. She loved the feel of him so close. Couldn't get enough of it.

She knew she'd been rough with him. Understood the architecture of his psyche. Still some things would have to remain as they were.

The storm of circumstance had not yet cleared from the skies above them.

Still most of all, Sarah loved his blue eyes. His icy blue eyes and how they were staring into her.

"Well, dear Jareth, you asked for a goblin queen, I didn't think you meant snow white."

He could almost laugh. But his chest ached. Sarah drew a hand down the length of his exposed body, allowing her energy to fill him once more. He wished he could keep her like this with him for hours, days even, until her touch filled and overflowed the cup of his being once more. But this too was not to be.

"No, Jareth. I never rejected you."

His face twitched in silent recognition of her statement as a hand drew up closer to her lips. Sarah turned her chin lightly and allowed her lips to nibble gently on the firm curvature of his thumb.


	12. In a Pinch

Jareth held her fast wrapped, entangled in the vines of his cupidity. Sarah resisted, moving her head every time he tried to kiss her.

"Go on, admit that you miss me. That you can't do without me. It's okay. You can say it," he teased her with his breath beating playfully against her collarbone.

"Jareth, I _did_ say that I missed you and you just pretended not to understand what I meant."

He smiled and pressed himself enticingly against her. This was nearly too much for Sarah. She'd consider kicking him if he wasn't such of a foot freak. Her ankles were just as wrapped up in the Goblin King as her hands and heart were. Escape would prove extremely tricky at this point…

"But you _can_ say it…" a twinge of desperation lurked underneath his insinuating antics.

Sarah turned her face away from him again. Bracing herself against the melting barrage of his warm lips meandering knowingly down behind her exposed ear. Her body arched against him involuntarily, but still she managed to keep him from claiming her lips. The moan in his throat made her body twinge with desire, but her heart remained firm.

"Jareth you're a freak, if I tell you upfront that you're wanted you walk away. When I try to stake my own territory there you are all over me like a horny meerkat vigorously marking his favorite alpha female."

Her taste in words put him off ever so slightly, much to her pleasure.

Still the reprieve was short lived. The gist of her message was sufficient to crawl deliciously under his skin and stoke the flames of his insatiable appetite.

"I'll have you know I'm an owl, not a rodent," he murmured darkly in his deepest most compelling you-know-you-can't-resist-my-tyrannical-imperiousness tone.

"Meerkats aren't rodents, Einstein," Sarah retorted with the full satisfaction of being able to correct his royal highness. But the victory almost cost her serious ground. Detecting the hint of a smile in her features, Jareth lunged seductively for her lips, just grazing their silken contours before Sarah managed to reclaim her composure yet again.

Sarah gasped as Jareth pinched her arm with calculated precision, affectionate vengeance flowing through his wrists and ligaments. _Say she doesn't need me? Oh, I'll teach her something about needing me.._.

_**Poor Jareth and Sarah in such a bind!**_


	13. Jareth Dear

"Dear Jareth, are you really so blind? Do you think that compartmentalizing your existence so perfectly renders you immune to moral critique? How frivolous of you…"

Sarah laughed as she walked with Fae poise and elegance through the twilit gardens of the castle draped in elegant green silks. On her chest dangled a glistening iolite pendant, worked with silvery vines and leaves. Stunning she was most definitely.

Jareth followed at some distance. Patently unsure as to where she would be taking this conversation, yet drawn to the glowing hue of her presence.

"And another thing, love. Just because something doesn't make sense_ to you_, doesn't mean it doesn't flat out make sense. I mean, you _are_ terribly clever, but your mind is neverthless not the sieve of the universe, however you may like to pretend with those crystal balls of yours…Perhaps if what I say confuses you then you might very well profit from turning to your own instrument of understanding and see if the source of confusion is not external but perhaps internal to the workings of your own glorious mind."

She looked up at his approaching form and caught her breath. The delightfully acrid banter spouting from her luscious lips came to an abrupt halt. Jareth looked positively dangerous. Much as he had looked the night he took her in his arms at the masked ball.

Sarah knew she was fronting. Fronting because she didn't want him to hurt her. Fronting because she didn't know if she could trust him anymore to know better. Fronting because she felt like an idiot for letting him woo her. But what effects were her words working on the hidden mechanisms of the weary Goblin King's heart? Oh she wondered and her pulse almost started to race. Still, she stood like a gazelle in open defiance, daring him to approach her in all her intimidating radiance.

He had her softly locked in a swaying embrace before she could think her next thought. How swift he was! Graceful as a cat with movements that defied prediction.

And there Sarah was dancing in the arms of a Goblin King…

_If he kisses me_, she thought, _my heart might stop_.


	14. Love Package

_**Sarah's Survey**_

Jareth, are you a control freak? Do you have crippling trust issues? Answer the following questions and tally your score at the end to see if you qualify for an outrageous bonus help package that promises to totally revolutionize your love life.

1. How often do you check on Sarah when you think she can't see you?

a) at least once an hour b) several times a day c) once or twice a day d) obsessively

2. How much joy do you take learning something secret about Sarah in a sneaky way?

a) moderate joy b) mild joy c) extreme joy d) omg that's what I live for!

3. How much time a day do you spend wondering what's going on in her mind so

that you can more or less predict her every move?

a) a few minutes each day b) a few half hour blocks c) a few hours interspersed with activity d) I'm always up to no good when it concerns Sarah, what are you talking about?

4. Do you find yourself upset when she doesn't quite follow one of your imagined trajectories for her course of action?

a) a little b) yes, a fair amount c) I really have to work on my back lash button d) I swear to you it almost makes me want to sing a song and throw a hissy fit

5. Would you actually let her know something honestly about the details in your own life?

a) depends on my mood b) sometimes c) hardly ever d) What? Then where would all the fun be?

If you answered _d_ to all five questions or even bothered taking this survey at all, I can assure, my liege, you qualify as an obsessive control freak who has serious misgivings about trusting Sarah with your sense of self. Moreover, you run around in makeup and try to make her think she's seeing goblins when it's just you checking up on her from time to time. Well, at least you look good doing it. And Sarah would still probably do you all the same, for what it's worth.

Now, since you qualify, may I remind you that you can redeem your revolutionary love package by dialing the following number: 1-888-LIKEIGIVEASHIT.

Have a fantabulous day!


	15. AnticipPATIENCE

Sarah detected a tell-tale swagger in Jareth's stride today. This could only spell trouble. He had that air about him as though he'd already cooked up some new slew of schemes perfectly designed to mess with Sarah's mind.

_I guess I was really asking for it_…she sighed with a kind of melancho-happy resignation. _Yup_, she noted internally,_ I am envisioning life through his anticipated Schaden-Freude_. _Spells trouble for me, but at least I can see __**his**__ side of the fun…_

Nonetheless, Sarah wasn't about to submit to the new ploy without a proper and vigorous resistance. _Give him a run for his money, that's right_, she smiled knowingly as he gazed at her through his crystal ball.

"Oh Jareth dear…I know you're listening. You're such a _good_ listener," Sarah called out in a spritely sing-song low.

Oh, yes. Jareth was listening. But he wasn't about to give away his position. Espying on her with orb in hand, he waited, taking full pleasure from his restored voyeuristic vantage.

"Jareth sweetie, I can _feel_ when you're up to no good. And I tell you what. I'm ready for battle, Boy. Do your worst," she teased defiantly in a rich lounge-girl sort of voice. Jazz oozed from each syllable as it fell off her tongue. "And when the dust settles…we'll see who's still standing."

This last remark brought a clear grin to Jareth's lips. If _he_ ever got to her, _she_ certainly wouldn't be the one standing.


	16. Today

Jareth had been countless things for Sarah. Since she first met him, he'd never ceased to unfurl in a kaleidoscope of twirling colors, gestures, textures. Some rough, some smooth, some harsh and grating some sumptuous enough to make Sarah gladly forget everything else in existence.

But he had never simply hugged her.

Until today.

Today, Sarah got two Jareth hugs.

And they went straight to her heart.


	17. Ever

Jareth,

You touch my heart. You make me feel alive in ways I never dreamed. All my life I have kept a soul vision inside myself thinking it was madness yet cherishing it too much all the same to ever let it go. When you touch me—however you touch me—I feel that soul vision within me is real and true in ways I'd never dared to hope before.

Every part of you speaks to me. Your existence is a secret symphony singing to my spirit. What would I ever be without that song?

Even though I know I must be strong enough to walk away, it is only so that I can know I am strong enough to stay. For I cannot imagine anything beyond this paradise our hearts have made.

I hope you know a drop of a day with you at my side is worth more to me than a thousand with anyone else in your stead.

Dare I say? Your heart is my home. Your soul, my bed.

Yours forever,

Sarah


	18. Some People

"Any woman who could not understand that you are ridiculously hot is just stupid. But that's okay, I'll bank on their stupidity," Sarah declared matter of factly as she massaged the Goblin Kings scalp, neck and shoulders.

Jareth had had a long day. A long couple months for that matter. But it was okay, because Sarah was with him.

"And any woman who couldn't see that you are the easiest person to fall in love with in the world is just blind. But then, that means the privilege is reserved for people like me."

Her skillful, thorough, delicate hands caught on a stubborn spot of tension where his neck joined the crest of his back. She paused to work her way softly to the core of the knot before continuing.

"And anyone who didn't get that you are one of the most passionate, attentive, caring and likeable Fae in existence must have been out of their minds. I mean honestly, how often does God make a masterpiece like you?" she exclaimed as she kissed him sweetly on the shoulder.

Jareth closed his eyes and pressed his lips into a silent smile. He let her chatter on like this.

"You know, some people pray a whole lifetime hoping against all hope they'll be blessed to meet someone even a fraction of what you're worth."

Jareth decided she'd said enough for now. Reaching up and cupping her hand in his, he brought it round to his lips and let the tender flesh mingle between them for a moment.

Sarah leaned into his back and rested her cheek against his.

"Moods, eccentricities and all."


	19. Sein

Sarah was feeling a bit wired. The flames of passion roared in a gentle hum underneath her heart as she sat in the Goblin King's luxurious lap. He wore a flowing robe over his shoulders that left his chest exposed to her meandering explorations.

As he shifted his legs underneath her, the sensation of his body's movement sent jolts of pleasure through her core.

"Having a good day, my tempestuous little she-troll?" he baited lovingly.

Sarah pretended to ignore the fact he'd likened her to a troll and sent her mouth journeying across the exposed portions of his torso, squirming with self-satisfaction every time she managed to get a rise out of him through antics of tongue, lips or teeth…

Yes, Sarah was being quite the troll. Chewing on her favorite toy. But he was too tough to yelp or gasp when she tickled him with little purring nips and gnaws. Still, she sensed the sound of little moans of half-protest being adeptly stifled in throat. She loved to hear his breath. Loved to hear the faint grunts of delicious discomfort.

After a minute or two, her mood began to shift. Her kisses grew soft and slow and light. Lips hovering, not quite touching the space above her liege's heart, she desisted and was suddenly overwhelmed with a sensation rising from her own heart.

"So this is where my love and lord keeps all the secrets of our being." As her lips pressed with feather light precision against the little hairs and soft skin of his chest, a tremor of wonder flowed through the point of contact infecting both parties.


	20. Meeow

**Author's note: Sorry peeps, it just keeps comin' to me. I figure better out than in.**

"Oh God, yeah…oh babe…yes, God yes…oh, Jareth oh my God, oh Jareth…" Sarah's low moans, escaping in a cloud of slavish ecstasy as she rocked on her hips, crept like snakes of liquid lightening into the hidden infrastructure of the Goblin King's psychosomatic unity. The experience was mutually pleasurable.

Her voice was smooth, airy and deep as those little cries and exclamations issued with intermittent regularity from her throat.

Jareth continued his contact juggling stunt. Extremely pleased it got such a good reaction from his love.

When at last he threw the crystals into the air and let them slip into the trans-dimensional void, Sarah was under his chin before he could blink, sighing softly still with rich vibrations penetrating his sensitive chest.

Grinning and eyebrow cocked he gracefully wrapped his arms around his tender prize and held her to his chest.

"Meeow," was all she really cared to say. After all, it was great fun being Jareth's pet.


	21. Loki

Right dear Goblin King. Let's make a few things clear. I understand some of all of this pressure on me is for you to test the structure of my psyche for structural soundness. Not for my benefit, but for yours. I happen to already know what a coot I am and need not play any masochistic games with myself to see what I can and can't handle. If I want it, I go for it. If I don't, I don't waste my stress on it.

Now, I fully understand the legitimate need behind your actions. You need to be sure that this is a go from your end. However, now that the time of trial is coming to a close, I would like you to respect one simple request of mine going forward. Once you've made yourself at home inside of me and jumped on the roof a few times just to make sure the hatches were battened down properly, please refrain from putting me through unnecessary stress if you can help it. I understand you're practically Loki incarnate and that means certain things will always be as they have always been. Still, what I mean is, don't just give me an excruciating time for the Hell of it. Right? Clear? Teasing, yeah. Mind fucks, okay but know your limits. If you force me to expend my extra energies dealing with unnecessary crap for the sheer inanity of it, you will be taking away precious life force that I would have otherwise spent on something worthwhile. Say, like in being nice to you or to my friends or to a stranger or to myself. Get it? Good.

Questions?

Call me.


	22. Couch Plop

Sarah sighed and plopped in a pile onto the couch. It was a soft couch. One of those that didn't have any hard edges sticking out for her to crash her forehead against. Lying in side fetal, she wistfully stroked the velvety mass-manufactured olive green upholstery.

Sarah really missed Jareth. And she didn't care if it sounded weak or stupid. She wanted a cuddle.

But there were to be no cuddles that day. Probably not the next either. Or the one after that.

Sarah sighed again and closed her eyes, imagining his wild mess of hair and his sexy impish little sneer. Wishing she could just snuggle up next to him and purr.

Blech. The reality-fantasy divide was wearing on her. And since she was the one to summon him last, she felt there was really nothing she could do anymore.

Just do whatever it was she normally did. Of course Jareth-pining had long become part of the daily routine, so she'd probably do more of that too.


	23. Moments

"Jareth," she stood like a phantom in the crumbling Escher room. She was no longer the girl who'd first run his labyrinth. She had changed. Grown. And something else…

His heart was racing from the look in her eye.

"You know I want you. Want all of you. The good and the bad. For better or for worse," her voice was firm. Her brow heavy, but her eyes glistening like a child's. He knew it was because she was speaking her heart. Speaking the truth.

"I'll gladly stay here, if that's what you want," she paused to gauge his poise.

"Maybe you should hear me say I dream every day of waking up to you. Here together in this place," she looked about, leaving his eyes for a pace. His eyes shot secretively into the instants she did not bore into him—for it was always in those moments he forgot he was afraid to possess her.

_Take me, Jareth. I'm yours. _


	24. Eat a Date with your Date

"Sarah…" The Goblin King growled with exasperation, "I've already told you I simply don't date. I gave it up."

He shifted his hips, arms akimbo and a haughty mask covering his features.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Sarah replied deceptively dismissively, "All I'm saying is keep doing what you've been doing. What we've known each other for two years now. I don't care about putting on airs. Do what you do, live your life…only…_include me in it_," her voice raised in a muted question as her tongue came across those last words.

Jareth cocked an eyebrow, intrigued.

"And maybe kiss me sometimes, or often if the case allows…"


	25. Victory

Sarah sat on the hilltop outside the Labyrinth. Her eyes drank in silently a view now long familiar.

It seemed strange now that not so long ago she had been struggling with all her might to push through those winding passages one last time. Oh how it seemed everything hinged upon brute success.

Now she knew better.

There was always some wider maze leading her heart into spirals. Each time the race ended, she looked up to see there was only yet another one to be run. But now she'd run the last race. And she'd finally learned to stop looking up. There was no well-done waiting for her. Never was. Never would be. The victory was hers, hers fully. But it was a bitter champion who stood beyond the winding stone guarding a certain Fae's infamous goblin citadel. Ah, she would have preferred her victory be shared…

_There is nothing now. I am alone_.

Her heart shivered with apprehension. Night was coming. And victory did not mean home.


	26. sigh

"Jareth, I miss you. Please...I...I'm not a mind reader...I..." Sarah stuttered from a pile of unkempt sheets.

Sarah was afraid she'd said something wrong. Not with ill intent, but she knew she ought to be careful around the Goblin King's heart toes. He may have been one to wear a stoic exterior, but she'd had ample time to learn by now that there were other sides to him. Sides he'd only show if he felt he could. Sarah liked those bits he mostly kept hidden from view. Liked to see and experience them.

Okay so maybe she should have kept her mouth shut, but she felt it was her duty to be verbally accountable for her actions and emotions. This wouldn't be the first time her honesty had gotten her into trouble.

He'd left her to her business back aboveground for a week now. She was certain he was watching her through his crystals, as usual.

She thought of him often.

Hoped he would hear her minute sigh of remorse.


	27. Time

She wanted very much to be weak. Not weak as in spineless. Not weak as in needy or immature. Just plain adult, grown-up, yes I do in fact have a heart sort of weak.

Or maybe the word was vulnerable. Open? Forget it, she couldn't put a word to it.

_Why do I feel as though I've been taking the longest path between two points?_

She also wondered why he seemed so infamously apt to suspect her of wanting more than a simple welcome. That's really all she needed. A breath of presence, moment or two of patience for her to settle into the reality before her, a smile, and some assurance that it would be okay for her to be 'weak' or whatever the stupid word for it was.

Maybe it was that last bit he kept forgetting. Then wondered why she didn't push through her shell of inhibitions, calling an end to the dance of caustic longing and cutting separation. Yes, maybe he'd forgotten that last assurance bit on one or two crucial occasions.

Yet, as was his perennial custom, he kept her guessing, kept her at bay. Or at least that's what it seemed from her end. She'd stopped worrying, yes, but that didn't mean she didn't hope for some more tangible vision of union. Didn't wonder what would be required of her, if such a vision were indeed shared. Of course she wondered. Wondered what role she was to play. Wondered if the whole notion of trying to play one's part was in part the source of their mutual misery and separation.

Truly, she felt it time to set aside the barriers that had lain between them for so long. She knew his embrace was exactly where she wanted to be. Not just physical, of course. But that also. Yes that very much also.

Touch communicated so many things, after all. Touch painted worlds for souls to dive into, to thrive in, to find one another in. Touch meant assurance, presence, concrete love.

_Don't you think it's about time, dear one? No false starts, no treacherous retreats, no backing down and slipping back into silent suffering. I think we can be very happy together, don't you? Wouldn't you like to finally try and find out? If you can make me happy like this, when we have not yet even come together, wouldn't you like to find out how nice it could be if we walked side by side on life's journey?_

_I know I've said it before. And I meant it then too. But now I say to you truly, my life and love I am ready for you, for us, for everything. Please meditate on and trust in this knowledge. I want it to become a part of you._

_Also, dear. Remember to assure me. Let me know where I belong. As I cannot go where I am not invited._


	28. Yuletide

"Jareth...?" Sarah's timid voice echoed in the oubliette of her heart and fell flat against the empty room.

"Won't you come this time?" She pressed her hand to her lips in a pensive mockery of tenderness.

"When I fall will you be there to catch me?" biting her lip, she lowered her eyes from the blank windowpane.

A part of her imagined he could hear. That he listened. She hadn't really ever been able to shut that part of herself down completely. Somehow she'd always believed he cared. Who knows, maybe he did.

"I need you. I really do. I'm not bluffing," she uttered under her breath and rubbed her strained eyes.

Sighing, she slowly drifted off into the mundane routine of bedtime preparations.

"Merry Christmas anyway, dear," a corner of her mouth tucked in an afterthought, "and Happy Yule for that matter, you blasted fae."

Turning the lights off she crawled lazily into bed.


	29. Price

**Author's note: a little short for those who don't want to be single anymore. (not that being single is a bad thing, just you know every day in its season)**

"My love," she traced her hands along the sides of his questioning face, kissing him in the silence that drew each to the other.

"My love," she said again as she withdrew her lips from his, letting her eyes rest squarely upon his searching gaze.

She kissed him again. And again.

His hands crept softly around her silken tresses, drawing her deeper into his embrace.

Her eyes were closed, her mouth fastened upon his. He was the guide now, showing her new unspoken vistas with each movement of his tongue and jaw. She was fluid, melting, flowing with him.

Her fingers rejoiced as they clasped with utmost care those locks she coveted so. Rejoiced at the heat of his neck.

She belonged here in this moment-this moment where she could feel he belonged totally to her. The price for such sweet revelation? Ah, everything.

Still, she'd resolved long ago to ransom everything for a moment like this.

"My love," he murmured as her heart shuddered with untold ecstasy.


	30. Everything for Everything

_**Author's note: had to get this one out of my system before I went to bed tonight.**_

"Everything for everything. It's fair enough to ask, dear Sarah..._my_ Sarah if you will."

His finger traced the space between a lock of her chocolate hair and the smooth line of her neck. Sarah fought not to let the shivers he produced overtake her. This time she wanted to keep his gaze, meet it...match it.

Ah, his face was so close to hers! She could feel the warm breath carrying each carefully enunciated syllable. The nerves in her face tingled at such proximity.

"Now, what do you say?" he continued, eyebrow arched, pointed canines peeking out from his mischievous smirk.

"The game...all this...you'll never tire of these antics will you?" The words were harsher than the tone she cloaked him in.

"The game is never finished. But today is no game, my pet."

"It isn't?" she tilted her head slightly, guarded expression pierced with eyes wide and searching.

"No," his response more of a caress than an answer.

"You've come to take me," voice wavering between a statement and a question.

"Only if you wish..." he let the full force of his intensity flow through his eyes into hers for a minute, withdrawing slightly at last, careful not to make her heart beat too quickly.

"And if I do...?" Sarah's tone now unequivocally a query.

He let his hand rest lightly on her arm above the elbow. She made no attempt to shrink away from his touch.

"You give me everything. I give you everything. It's that simple, that easy, that exigent, that impossible..."

"Anything is possible," she gently interrupted.

"Indeed," he eyed her over with barely curbed excitement. His hand fell away from her.

Timidly Sarah reached for him. She missed the touch of his fingers on her arm. Did not want that fragile bond between them to be broken. With trepidation, she allowed her palms to softly brace themselves against his half exposed chest.

He brought his hands up to cover hers and press them more firmly into his flesh.

"Don't you know, Jareth..." she paused, pulling her composure together, "I...I let my heart be taken long ago...with you it was always an everything sort of question for me. You are the choice I made and keep on making."

He squeezed her fingers. Still he wanted to hear more from her.

"So...? Your answer then," he teased with mock sharpness.

"You mean the answer to everything?" she smiled at her own coy prevarication.

"No," his lips split into a generous grin as he wrapped his arms around her and drew her into him, "To my proposal, love."

His fingers twined in her tresses, making her sigh with delight.

She lay her head in the crook of his neck. Breathed a moment. Lifted her head and kissed the base of his neck before meeting his gaze once more.

"Take me to your castle. I accept."

"You do?"

"Oh, yes."

"This is final you know."

"I know. Don't insult my intelligence, love," she lowered her eyes languidly only to look up and seize the silent fury of his irises with newfound confidence.

"Jareth, I solemnly say to you...you are the only person who could ever give me everything. And the only person I'd ever want to give everything to."

His heart skipped a beat.

_Everything. She would give him everything then. Good, because he would give her everything in return._


	31. Quill

Sarah sat at her generous oak desk, scribbling away with a cantankerous feather quill that couldn't help from commenting on the text slowly drawing out from its ink. Generally she ignored the textual commentary supplied by her pen. She also found it easy to ignore Jareth in her state of heightened concentration.

Jareth, however, did his best to titillate her imagination by slinking round her back and looking voracious and sly over her shoulder. It was of little use.

Sarah had work to do. Her respite consisted in being thoroughly engrossed in the task at hand.

Every now and then Jareth thought to drop in and help her. How he planned to help her Sarah only wondered. But she detected his odd mood and watched in half frustration and half bemusement as Jareth intermittently tried to silence her quill with guttural whispered threats of bog and the occasional flash of fingers targeting the talkative quill feather. The latter gesture really got under Sarah's nerves more than she could say. Honestly, if Jareth really wanted to help, he could very well have given her a non-yapping writing utensil to begin with.

But no, Jareth had given her the talkative pen with devilish glee in his heart. It had been his intention to irk her even and especially during her private moments of reflection and creativity. Sadly, his plan hadn't worked as well as he'd anticipated. Sarah was very good at ignoring the niggling comments spewing from the enchanted feather dancing deftly in her hand. Very good indeed. Probably from all that goblin practice. Yes, he mused, it was difficult to faze that Sarah. Still it was of no matter. Just one more challenge for him to surmount—what new antic to give his poor Sarah a proper jolt?

As Jareth lost himself in visions of producing some novel variety of petty torment, he lost track of his surroundings. Sarah, noticing the absentminded stillness of his lingering presence behind her, took the opportunity to lift her right hand and summarily stuff the jabbering feather end into the Goblin King's spaced expression. Before he knew it, Jareth was choking on a half-inhaled half-swallowed feather.

Chuckling at the idea of down in the king's precious little nostrils, Sarah reached into her pocket, pulled out a ball point pen and continued writing.


	32. In the Arms of a Rascal

**A/N: YAY more goofy fluff. This is my consolation prize for losing some other document I was typing today.**

"Oh Jareth, you are such a scoundrel."

He grinned and pulled her tighter into his chest.

"mmmHm," the vibration of his voice flowing from his torso to hers. His smirk broadened, but Sarah could feel the grip of his fingers falter ever so slightly.

"I mean that's not to say I don't begrudgingly enjoy your rascally highness's antics…" she trailed, letting her hands move softly over his partially exposed collar bone.

"Oh, so you like it? After all, then?" His eyes brightened with a boyish I-told-you-so sort of glee…and something else.

_Oh his eyes_, she was powerless when he looked at her with those mischievous eyes. Especially when he already had her in his arms.

"Yeah…I guess so," she mumbled as she turned her head away only to lay her cheek upon his shoulder.

The Goblin King was satisfied with her admission. He celebrated by exploring the silk texture of the chocolate tresses carelessly clinging to his vest and shirtsleeve. In no time his palms were cradling her scalp.

"But sometimes it really hurts."

He felt rather than heard those last garbled words, muffled now in the fabric of his collar.

"Now, now, Sarah," he pulled her face up toward his, speaking with gentle authority.

The innocence in her eyes as she gazed up at him sent a spike through his intestines and made his spine tingle all at once.

"You of all people know that life isn't always fair," he let a gloved hand move down her jaw to rest underneath her chin.

At his words, Sarah turned her eyes sheepishly in the other direction. It wasn't that she was a pushover, but resting coddled in the embrace of her Goblin King seemed to quench a bit of the feistiness of her temper. It was after all what she had longed for all this time.

"Why like this though?" she finally managed to say.

"Like what, my love?" his blue eye twinkled. She squirmed slightly in protest before he relented and continued, "All right darling, but that was the way it happened. This is our story, our journey, our path. I am no saint. You know that."

Sarah sighed as she felt her body release another layer of tension, sinking still deeper into his arms. Her heart was sinking too, slowly falling out of itself and into the warmth pressed against her.

His hand rose to brush lightly against her brow as he allowed his eyes to pierce the veil of her soul. Shivering with unspoken delight mixed with something only describable as joyous terror, she tucked her face under his neck and whispered into his frazzled mane:

"Please, never leave me."

"I don't intend to."


	33. Room

Sarah had been snooping in the Goblin King's absence. Having harnessed enough of her own newfound powers of enchantment, she'd taken the precaution of shielding herself from his crystal surveillance. This journey was personal. And she needed to experience it alone.

She'd gone through most of the castle rooms, merely glancing at some, perusing carefully through others. When at last she came upon a room that took her breath away.

The doorway was simple unassuming, wood with chipped and faded paint. It stood in a forgotten hallway that led out to an abandoned garden. At first she thought it was just a broom closet or something akin to a tool shed. But when she lifted the tarnished silver latch, she gasped with the site that greeted her unsuspecting vision.

A room of dusty memories. But not human memories. Fae memories. Artifacts enchanted, dusty, telling stories before she even asked. Here was the hidden room silently paying tribute to the echoes of Jareth's past.

Books, pictures, artifacts. Her fingers passed over each new object nearly shaking with awe and something very near reverence. Not for the magic in these objects, but that each was somehow a part of the man who now vied to hold her in his arms forever. Most of it made only partial sense. She could only speculate what any of it meant. Still, the wonder of the place consumed her. Like a mausoleum for one still living.

Pausing from her mental inventory, she walked over to a dust laden curtain and found the heavy silk cord, giving it a hardy tug. The velvety stuff subsided with a muffled commotion and sunlight poured into the chamber. She saw the window had a perfect view unto the forgotten garden.

Sighing, she sat down on a chair with faded upholstery, dust clouds rising as she settled into the cushion. Coughing initially, she turned her attention to the little table beside her. There lay a book—a lovely leather bound thing, leaves and flowers pressed into the reddish softness of the cover. Unconsciously holding her breath, pulse quickening without her notice, she carefully undid the cord keeping its pages closed to her. As she did so, the book opened voluntarily in her cradling palm.

Eyes wide, chest stuffed with cotton, she read. And read. And read still more. Sometimes her eyes glistened from mute emotion. Sometimes she brought the book to her mouth to press her lips against the words written meticulously over its pages.

Finally, exhaustion setting in, she lay the book back down where she found it, cupping her aching forehead in her hands.

A part of her wanted to say, "why do you never say anything?" or "how was I supposed to know?" but another part knew that finding the words written where she did, when she did, how she did had been the only way. Clutching herself round, she rocked a minute from the strange rumblings and jolts fulminating in her middle.

A few minutes later, Jareth finally saw Sarah walking with somber serenity out into the forgotten garden he once knew all too well. His throat and heart tightened in unison until he saw the light in his beloved's eyes. Something about her expression told him all was well. He sighed and began recounting the minutes until he would be able to hold her in his arms again.


	34. Blue

She looked down at the strange glittering blue drawing out of her chest, hovering in the space between them. He was faded, nearly transparent.

"Why is this still here?" she managed to glance up faintly.

He lifted his brow, signaling he had no better answer than hers.

"If I only knew how to cut it, though I'm not sure I could bring myself to," her tired words, not his. He was silent. Barely present. A shadow of himself.

The odd shimmering object was the bond between them. Blue now, surprisingly visible yet still intangible. Its surface moved softly as if reacting to a hidden breeze, breathing almost. Thick and cylindrical, she could feel how it was transmitting untold gobs of information—emotions, non-verbal, experience, God knows what.

This thing had been planted in them long ago, linking their souls across space and time. Now it lingered robust and hardy amidst the destruction of each figure's isolated heart.

As they stood in silence, its color began shifting again. Now towards violet, now magenta.


	35. foiled affair

Sarah babbles to herself sometimes, trying to raise morale:

"Yeah, JARETH," eyeing the empty expanse of her living room, "maybe I should just go and have a hot sordid affair with someone I don't give a *&^% about. Oh, wait, it wouldn't be hot, cause I wouldn't give a *&^%. Damn, even my own logic defeats me."


	36. Dance

"Well if you didn't want me, what kept you from seeking out others? Others more obliging, softer, gentler, more generous than me…" His twisted smirk contrasted sharply with the dead weight in his eyes.

"I refuse to be with anyone who cannot shake me to the core and touch the very heart of me. Even if it means being alone forever."

He snorted lightly and trailed the old quip, "It's only forever."

"Yeah, something like that," she sighed, keeping her gaze studiously square, fixed on the window across from them.

Raising his chin in a barely visible shrug, he looked her over and found himself in awe of her ability to appear totally stoic. How formal and reserved she was when confronted…Especially when he knew the truth behind her internal workings. He'd laugh at the disparity except that same reservation had cut him more than once already. So instead he fidgeted, ostensibly making himself more comfortable in his seat at the edge of her bed.

"Well, if it's forever that you want, what kept you from reaching out to me?"

"I called on you and you never came," she replied flatly, then in an afterthought added, "But it's true, you know. You shake me to the core."

"Say your right words…" he insinuated lowly. The depths in his voice made Sarah sit up straight from the goose bumps rising all over her flesh.

"I guess I thought I had." Jareth winced at the pain suddenly evident in her voice.

"Well, if that's how you feel about it, enjoy eternity…" he made motion to get up.

"Stay…please," she uttered in barely more than a whisper.

"Stay?" he was standing now, looking down at her with his typical guarded yet mischievous façade.

"I don't care how, just stay. However it has to be, then let it be. I want you. Even if I can't have you with me."

He felt his heart rate climb, keeping his mask in place.

"Who told you I can't be with you?" His question hit a place inside Sarah. She could feel some sort of wall coming down.

"Maybe that's what I told myself after you didn't respond."

"Hm…That's a bit rash and presumptuous of you I might say. Though also quite typical if I know you at all."

"Not that you care, but I missed you," she muttered in an impulsive and ill thought reaction to his guarded tenderness. He winced again, doing his best to condone her little jabs as she struggled with expressing how she truly felt toward him.

She continued after a long silence, expending her last reserves of inspiration in the process, "So what are the right words?"

"Wrong words," his quick parry.

"Right…gotta figure it out myself then…" her disappointment was only further confirmed. He watched her deflate an inch or two.

"No." Her head perked up at his curt negative. Not what she'd been expecting.

"What then?"

"You tell me."

"Wha?" She was getting exasperated again.

"Tell me, Sarah. And do it right."

At that, Sarah threw her hands up in the air and let out a cry of absolute confusion mixed with a strange sort of relief. Still a corner or two to round in this strange labyrinthine dance of hearts?


	37. Kiss

He'd played the villain, the author of devilish seduction, the inscrutable taskmaster, the mysterious fae, the immortal king, but what he hadn't really admitted to himself was that those were roles more than anything else. They didn't really get down to the heart of him. At least not the little room where the dream of Sarah lived.

And now he was prancing tantalizingly over her bedroom carpet, hoping she wouldn't notice the sweat collecting on his wrists and running in tiny rivulets down the back of his neck.

Sighing he at last avowed in his soul of souls that he really didn't have a clue on this one. In the end, it was she who seduced him. Every time. Now was no different. Except now he wanted _her_ to reach out, to pull _him_ in, to guide him through the drowning sensation of releasing his body as it flowed seamlessly into hers. Flinching, he envisioned the sour expression blooming on her face once she realized that he was utterly helpless in her arms. Between waves of harrowing shame, he imagined in minute detail her overwhelming disgust at his weakness. The truth of it all made him want to just throw his hands up in the air and outright faint. _Before this woman I am no king. And that's the heart of it_. Blinking he did his best to shake away the dizziness edging voraciously through his temples.

The carpet still lay beneath his fidgety boots. Recentering his attention, he noticed Sarah was entertaining a very curious look in her eyes. Maybe she'd already seen through him—he gulped in rising dismay. Perhaps it's time to make my exit, and swiftly…

Too late. She'd already taken him by the hand.

He tried not to close his eyes in anticipation of a slap or something worse—a word that would make his whole palace of dreams crumble to pieces. Something like_, I hate you. Or how could you. Or get out of my bedroom_. _You're worthless_. _I thought you were better than this_. Of course, he'd never let on that such words cut him to the core—no never! But cut they did. Especially from her. And bleed he would, he was positively sure this time.

"Jareth,"

A long familiar voice ripped him from his panicked reverie and brought his gaze like a magnet into hers. He couldn't speak. Not in this state. Couldn't tell her why or how his heart raced. She'd probably shudder to know anyway. Her little idol of a perfectly cruel and powerful monarch with the otherworldly sex appeal would deflate in mere instants. Then she'd be devastated, lost, angry…

"Jareth, are you okay?"

Disappointed at himself for not keeping a hold on his facade, he finally managed to draw a fresh breath.

"Horrible," he uttered with abject finality as he looked her dead in the eye with the only ounce of dignity currently left to him.

She snaked her hands around his arms and drew him softly closer as her face lit up in a smile.

"Aww, you know you're so endearing when you get like this."

Before he could blink, her lips were pressed delicately against his.


	38. Contact

_"Sarah...How are you enjoying my labyrinth?"_

Her thoughts froze before they could reach her tongue. Trickling like a leak in a great floodwall, her childish effort at vain protest rung like another's voice in her ears.

_Is that really what I want this man to hear?_ She began asking herself in a daze.

_"What's said is said..."_ his words rang like an old song half forgotten.

"Oh no, please wait!"

"Wait...?" Fae eyes tore through her from several paces away.

"This is not how I want you to remember me," her gaze returning his with enlightened resolution.

"Remember?" he scoffed as he ejected hot breath from his nostrils, "How could I ever forget you?"

He'd caught her now, but she only half realized it. Couldn't see how he'd already inched in close. Couldn't feel the air in front of his face until it was too late.

"It's far too late for that now, love..." One smile from those half curled lips and she was a deer in headlights once more. Unsure whether it was safe to breathe. Safe to open her heart to the possibility...

"Love me," he blinked as his head tilted lightly on its axis. In awe she savored in stunned detachment how the man before her could weld absolute and utter inscrutibility with such a dire plea for intimacy.

"Fear me," his forehead drew a hair closer to hers, as if to insinuate the control he wished to wield. Yet in her heart of hearts she understood this was more of an invitation than a command. A subtle statement of fact he was not sure she'd be able to accept-_know that I am Other, that you can never chain me, never stop me from sending chills down your spine even though and in truth because I am an abject servant of your love_.

"Do as I say," his fingers touched the fabric on her sleeve as the last syllable rode out from his breath. This time Sarah blinked and shook her head imperceptibly, trying to let the truth behind his words open itself in her mind's eye. Or perhaps there was no truth. His pupils burned into her as if to incinerate that last thought before it had time to germinate.

"I do not understand," she responded with mildly furrowed brow.

"Allow me then to show you." He made no further move to touch her. She sensed he desired to let his hands graze her features, her form and yet something held him in check. Then she realized, was he waiting on her?

"Maybe I will. I still find it puzzling, though, why a Goblin King would ask a woman to give him gentleman's leave to behave like a scoundrel..." her cheeks blossoming with red as she spoke. She hadn't meant to be so fresh. All the same, he should know what he was getting himself into.

"Hm..." he stood with upturned lip, apparently mildly amused. Suddenly the space between them grew tense with expectation. His lack of verbal response was more a challenge than anything else. It dawned on her he was still patiently waiting for the definitive response to his question. Dodging it might amuse but never satisfy...

Sarah tried to look down and away from his aura of ripe expecation, but he was too close. She suddenly found her vision filled with warm flashes of his form-neck, chest, arms, shoulders, hips...

"Sarah." The sound brought her face up to meet his once more. He knew she was on the edge of a precipice.

"Don't defy me," he articulated softly merely centimeters from her lips.

At that, something snapped.

Before he knew it, Jareth was cradling a stinging jaw.

_She slapped me! _Was all he could register in the wake of her departure.


	39. Contact 2

A/N: A continuation of the previous chapter…

Sarah was enjoying herself. A touch tipsy, but thoroughly enjoying herself. She'd rather forgotten what she'd initially started out to do, but it didn't really matter.

A victory wine to celebrate her well-placed blow to the Goblin King's ego…

Or was it his ego she'd managed to hit in that gesture? Shrugging off the thought as a measure of precaution, she lifted her glass and took another swig laughing out loud at the tripe flowing out of her television screen.

_Do as I say…_

She'd never quite figured out what he'd meant by that. And being the stubbornly inquisitive creature that she was, the thought nibbled at the back of her consciousness. Nibbled like lover's lips over the skin of her beloved. _Oh stop that…_ Sarah shook herself and grinned at the images flashing across her on the screen. Anyway, he pushed the envelope and got what he'd deserved.

Finishing her third glass of wine with a distinct aura of satisfaction, revelation suddenly dawned.

"Oh wait…" she interjected into the empty room, "He means TRUST ME…"

Bursting into a fit of inebriated chuckles she kept on with her audible musings, "Oh God, what a way to say it too! Do as I say…_trust_ me…Only you, Jareth."

"You called?"

Sarah's mirth froze into an icy block of shamed and panicked terror at that oh so rich and melodiously suggestive tone.

"Back for seconds?" she chimed in perfect defiance, despite having to wipe her now clammy palms against her oversized house sweater.

"You have this curious habit of saying my name. One might think it was your intention to summon me, for what purpose I cannot but guess…" his eyes grew wicked with insinuation, "Certainly one who wanted to keep me away would manage to ward my token calling card _far_ from her lips."

"I guess I did say your name. Slip of the tongue."

"Slip or invocation, it's all the same to me…"

"Are you really that desperate?" Sarah leered with the stem of her empty wine glass pressed tight between whitening knuckles.

"Well, I did offer to be your slave."

"Yeah, I tend to forget that last part, don't I?"

"Yes you do. To your own detriment I might add," face aglow he swooped down to alight in the adjacent chair, scrunching his features momentarily as he made himself comfortable. No comfy throne, after all. In any case, his long legs always made him feel slightly ridiculous swooping down into normal people seats.

"Loss or harm?" she barely managed to make her question intelligible. Nevertheless, he followed her train of thought feigning little to no effort.

"Depends, now doesn't it?"

"I mean, what could I really be missing out on?" she chortled dismissively into her cup.

"Since you consistently thwart my attempts at demonstration, how am I to say?"

She could feel he wanted to reach toward her. His knees, she noticed, were nearly brushing against hers.

"So _trust,_ then," she chirped with eyebrow arched.

"_Do as I say, and I will be your slave_. Who knows, it might prove mutually enjoyable…"

"Funny proviso that."

He purposely neglected to dignify her cheekiness with a retort.

"Anyway, Sarah, you're drunk, it doesn't count," he stated with decisiveness as he slunk further back into his seat. For some reason the far wall appeared to hold his attention, Sarah couldn't fathom why.

"Does too!" she belted before she had the chance to cover her big mouth with her hand.

"Prove it," he purred in her general direction.

"How?"

Chuckling lightly to himself he muttered with surprising softness under his breath, "Say it sober."

"Well the alcohol won't stay in my system forever…"

"Oh Sarah, is that a drunken invitation?" His eyes seemed particularly wild and poignant.

Crawling onto his lap before he had time to protest, Sarah let her weight press into him.

"I told you I'm not drunk." Her hands morphed quickly into Velcro against the fabric of his collar.

"Don't tempt me woman, I am Fae after all."

"I'm tempting you."

"I know."

And before she knew it, a jolt told her she had crashed upon the cushion of the now vacant chair. He was gone.

"What did I say? Gentleman's leave to behave like a perfect scoundrel! I stand by that one, oh formidable adversary…"

A/N: I wrote this at the beck of a particular comment, and if I get good reviews I might write a third one to this. So let me know if you're all up to it. :)


	40. Contact 3

A/N: So I get these dialogues that just start and run on their own momentum in my head. I was thinking of taking Contact and asking for reader feedback as to where to take it next, so here I am. I'm curious to read ppl's reactions and suggestions, so please do review if you get the chance! It would make me quite happy. I personally suggest some Muse 'Supermassive Black Hole' if you haven't already indulged.

Sarah was minding her own business, or at least she thought she was. Apparently not. Startled from her solitary spacing by the sound of air hissing brusquely behind her, another more familiar sound made her toes curl with a distinct mixture of surprise, apprehension, irritation and pleasure. Indeed, she had the luxury of counting all four affectations in her soul in the short time it took for the Goblin King to utter these words:

"You called me your adversary."

She didn't have to turn around. In less than a second, the voice was in front of her, clearly anchored in the throat of rather charming if not slightly unorthodox looking slip of man.

"I'm not your _adversary_," he articulated as if to correct a slightly skewed conclusion. Sarah could feel her face flush at his brazen row of pointed teeth.

"What are you then?" Still seated, she pushed her papers away and folded her hands together in front of her.

"A _friend_." The grin pasted under his cheekbones made the blood rush beneath her skin. She wondered if he could observe her body subtly betray any sense of false composure she might like to convey.

"Ah, the ambivalent ambiguities spawned from disingenuous fruits of false lovers' trysts!" Sometimes Sarah felt like a trumpet bell without a mute. This time she waxed a touch prideful at her wittily provocative outburst, give or take a few ounces of self-consciousness. Of course he always managed to press directly on those quivering, vulnerable threads of ego hanging taut between heart and tongue.

"By God, Sarah, apart from being entirely too prolix, you've managed to further blemish those rosebud lips with a shamelessly uncalled for personal attack."

"Well, it would be well deserved I'd imagine. But then, who said anything about your royal highness? Still think it's all about you, huh?"

"Denying the obvious implications makes you just as bad as me." Jareth seemed quite comfortable standing in the middle of her room now. Sarah could almost detect a hint of triumph in the set of his hips, if she let herself eye his limber frame long enough.

"…and that makes us friends?" She lanced an exaggerated quizzical stare at his shoulders. Looking him dead in the eye would just make her get all weak in the stomach anyway—no point in that!

"Something of that ilk." She'd forgotten the luxuriant richness of his voice. How it was almost a caress when he made it to be.

"Be gone, imp," she pronounced with a roll of her eyes.

"Say the magic word." His refusal to budge at her dismissal caught her off guard.

"Dance, oh wait, _please_," she drawled facetiously. He took a few steps toward her.

"Wait, Sarah," his tone suddenly more serious, face sobered and sloughing mirth, "Let me give you this…"

"Give me what?" He loved the way her eyes sparkled with uncertainty as she questioned him. _Yes, it would be entirely worth it_, Jareth congratulated himself.

"A kiss, nothing more…"

Sarah's face turned beet red. And he'd inched in close again, the way he always managed to do.

"A kiss…?" she swallowed hard, trying to keep her larynx from shriveling.

"And if you hold me this way," he purred as his hands snaked around her waist, "I'll show you your dreams." Already she could barely contain herself. He let the front of his body gently insinuate its warmth and contour, keeping his touch light, suggestive, yet unmistakably deliberate.

He felt her shiver between his fingers as he brought his mouth against hers. She shoved just as their lips made contact. But it was too late, the sensation of their moist flesh joining outdid Sarah. And Jareth was not about to let go at this point without avid verbal prompting. In fact even then… Of course, cohercion was far from either's mind. Upon his second tender lunge of lips, Sarah's once balled fists melted against his chest, sliding their way up to curl around his neck.

The moment of sweetness lingered, peaked and finally passed. He released her from the spell he'd been meticulously weaving in her heart.

"Some friend you are," she stated breathlessly, eyeing him with a note of suspicion and a shade of good humor. He could she was ready to laugh at herself—at how easily she'd been snagged and drawn into his little passion play.

"I hoped you might like me."


	41. Declining Day

**A/N: I do not own Labyrinth. Nor do I own Abdel Haleem's translation/interpretation, below in italics. Also, a slice of life, so not all details explained, just sort of jump in and jump out snapshot. Let me know if it doesn't make sense.**

"Sarah, back to the Labyrinth now."

She stared past him out into the dying hues of the day. The air was fresh and not too chilly, slightly moist and filled with the smell of soil, water, and plant. Wisps of hair floated out from under the hood she left hanging loosely around her temples.

Sometimes, silence spoke more potently than any combination of words.

"Sarah, I realize you are enjoying yourself, but we have business in the Underground to attend to," impatience rising in his voice.

She knew he was just saying that to avoid saying something else.

The glare of the sun caught at the edges of the sky, lighting the scattered clouds clinging tenaciously to the dimming bowl of the heavens. The trail of an airplane could be discerned tracing its way through the glowing atmosphere.

Sarah felt tones and syllables from some half understood sacred text pulsing like a chant through the unspoken passages of recent recollection.

_By the declining day, man is [deep] in loss, except for those who believe, do good deeds, urge one another to the truth, and urge one another to steadfastness._

"Fine then, shall I return without you and leave you here another month or two?" His short temper was getting the better of him. Nonetheless, she could feel he was still only bluffing. Perhaps a minute more, and he might consider taking his own threats in earnest.

Slowly she let her vision shift and settle on the agitated features of his face. She could see the recognition in his brow at having finally secured her visual attention. _That's right, king. Don't take the sentient fire of these eyes for granted_. _Remember that regardless of all the magic you wield in your fae nature, I am filled by the human grace of wonder. I too am a house for the divine_.

"Do as you wish, Jareth."

His lips tightened in displeasure and discomfort. She was not making it easy for him by any means. She knew the one thing he wasn't about to show was any sign of remorse, any sign of sympathy. Or more accurately, she had no expectations of him openly acknowledging why they were both standing there at dusk near a river Aboveground.

"So you wish that I leave you here?" he raised an eyebrow at last in her direction.

"I said, do as you wish. Stop trying to hide behind what you think I wish and don't wish. You end up making up your own story for me and then trying to hold me to something which is entirely your own creation. Do what's best for you, not what you presume is 'best' for me."

"Yes, well, by definition we are one now..."

She cut in firmly but with no haste, "Yes, but that does not mean you relate to yourself through your constructed fiction of who and what I am. That is not the behavior of one joined to another."

"What is, then?" a sneer krept into his face.

"Good question. First you relate to yourself in honesty. After that, you can find the center from which you can truly touch me and not a figment of me. As long as you're not honest with yourself, you'll try to compensate by unduly controlling me. And honestly, I don't feel like being controlled right now."

"So, I leave you here?" He flipped his hair with a forced non-chalance.

"Correct, we are both stubborn," her mouth cracked into a smile.


	42. A lesson in self care

"Oh flesh of my flesh! What mischief has consumed you now?"

Jareth looked in curiosity at the Sarah shaped lump rolling around on his bedroom floor.

"Mmmmhm!" Sarah managed to mumble, but not really in his direction. She appeared thoroughly engrossed in whatever it was she had entangled herself in.

"What is that green fuzzy orb you've got lodged under your thigh?"

"Old tennis ball. My own personal physical therapist and massage artist rolled into one."

Her response made him squirm slightly. What an odd thing for her to say!

"Don't think I would have ever let one of your Goblins given me a rub down..." she responded in tart defensiveness, as if she sensed the scandal going on in her king's belabored sense of personal propriety.

"Thank God for that," he uttered decisively, fingers pressed into a knotted forehead. He wasn't planning on telling her, but he actually thought the ridiculous way she was flopping on the floor with her therapeutic instrument rendered his queen mind-bogglingly cute.


	43. Perichoresis

Sarah rolled the orb idly between her fingers, a prayer lodged in the corner of her heart. It took her several minutes of rapping her fingertips against the tabletop before she could bring herself to open her mouth.

"Jareth, please, I'd like to know what you want of me."

Nothing stirred. The room continued in its static unity.

Gripping the ball now with some force, she looked starkly out the window into the crescent moon's silvery gaze.

"Jareth..."

"Ask for me once, ask for me twice, now what would happen if you called out thrice..." His voice cut through the deadening air.

"Sounds like turning an inquiring outsider from the temple," Sarah mused, smiling despite herself.

"Whose temple, would that be, Sarah?" He'd come around from behind, hooking his features over her shoulder. His delicate proximity struck her senses, leaving her devoid of any suitable quip.

Noting the effect his presence authored in her, the Goblin King decided to step back and lean against the table she'd been sitting at.

Released from the intensity of his nearness, she felt a sigh of frustration escape her lungs.

"Now, what's the matter, love?"

_Love_, she thought, how bittersweet to her these pet names! How could she be certain of anything anymore. And yet, whenever he spoke to her endearingly she could not help but revel in the strange wonder of it.

"Do things really have to be like this?" She gulped, hoping courage would help her to the point.

"Like what?" He purred and reveled in the deepness of his own larynx.

"Do you test me now, like this? Is there something I do which prevents me from understanding as I should?" Her palms lay pressed and sweaty over the glossed mahogany.

"Sarah, I asked you to clarify," his eyes glowed with an immutable intensity. Sarah swallowed again and prayed she wasn't barking up the wrong tree.

"You know, I mean with me here and...and..." her resolution faltered. She'd lost the magic train of argument that would perfectly reveal the condition of her heart.

"Are you unhappy?" he let his forehead dip as if to concede some measure of sympathy and genuine sincerity.

"I am conflicted."

"Oh, are you?"

"Yes."

"Go on."

"I don't know what you want from me. If I knew you fully intended to take me as your queen but that you were waiting for some reason, then that would be one thing. If I knew you were toying with me and had no intention of claiming my heart as a true lover, that would be another. If I knew it was through some oversight of my own that you have not had the occasion to claim me, still another. But the truth of the matter is that I do not know. And therefore do not even know where to go with myself from here."

"Do you want me to take you?" he murmured with a smirk blooming on cheeks.

"Well, yes, of course! I thought that much had been obvious."

Jareth took a moment to strut in a half circle around the room before facing Sarah once more.

"Remember, Sarah, it was your choice to fall in love with a Fae," he chuckled.

"I know..." she conceded slightly deflated.

He let her sit for a moment with hair slowly falling over her half-closed eyelids. He noted the curve of her shoulders, the way her spine folded forward limply, bringing her chest inches from the table's surface.

Lost for a minute in the vision of affection's ore, he started lightly as she jerked her head up toward him, tongue clearly bearing some new burning truth she could no longer contain.

"I really wish you would take me. Maybe I thought I was ready before. And maybe you were right in thinking I wasn't. But now, now it's all bound up together. Now the waiting and the sharing and the being and the loving are all one. I can't keep them separate in my soul anymore. I just confuse myself when I try."

He parted his lips to speak, but stopped himself when he saw she hadn't finished.

"And if you mean for me to walk away from all of this as mortals wake from dreams to go about their earthly lives, then it's best you make it exceedingly clear to me that that is your design. Otherwise, I'll forget to wake up and keep dreaming this dream that won't seem to leave me be...Jareth, this one thing I ask of you, please don't weave me a dream only to leave me spinning in it all by myself."

To Sarah's surprise, Jareth moved in and knelt beside her. His arms reached into her lap and carefully took her hands in his. Sarah's eyes grew wide, shining with sudden emotion. She shook her head, still confused.

"Oh, Sarah. You know, I'm not the only one who complicates things. But don't worry. I live inside you for a reason. And you in me. I didn't think it was possible to live inside another when I first had you in my Labyrinth. There was a lot I didn't understand about love then. And plenty still to learn."

He'd gathered both her hands in one of his, a free set of fingers now tracing circles down Sarah's cheeks.

"When can we be together? Why do I call out into empty silence most of the time?" her voice came out much weaker than she'd intended.


	44. Knecht

A/N: "I've Got You Under My Skin" -great song, and my title of preference for this short. So I did some angst, now for a little naughty bout of wish fulfillment. Also, for fun: try Liszt 'Liebestraum.'

She sat on a cushion, back propped against his throne, girded on both sides by spandex-clad knees. The touch of his naked hands on her temples and crests of her ears had her drifting in and out of coherence. The perennial drug of his voice coaxed her into a state beyond worry, beyond thought, beyond dreams, even.

Sarah was exactly where she wanted to be. Glancing over to the foot of the throne, she spied his infamous riding crop and wondered for a minute if he'd had any special reason for bringing that along. Laughing drunkenly in her soul, his fingers reaching down to trace the soft curve of her lips made her breath stop. When her pulse started up again, the life in her reached out to catch a still straying index finger with a kiss and playful nibble.

"You should let me be your love slave, you know," Sarah's voice chimed huskily.

Jareth trumpeted a pert laugh in response and growled low in his throat as he pinched her jawline.

"My little love slave, is that what you are? Didn't we agree that I was to be _your_ slave..."

She let her wrists snake back around his slender calf muscles. He brought the warmth of his palms down to settle on her sensitive throat, the heat seeping into her neck no less than sumptuous.

"Well, let's see," he started, "Do you love me?"

"Yes."

His fingers moved subtlely as he kept hands anchored firmly in place above her collar bone.

"And, you fear me."

"God yes."

He squeezed ever so lightly as she imagined what his smile must look like behind her.

"The question is, will you do as I say?" A hand began trailing over the upper contours of her bust line.

"Of course, but conditionally. Always and ever conditionally."

"Hm," he snorted with sardonic grace. "Then I suppose I am your slave, Sarah, my Sarah."

"Slave, make me your love slave," she teased seductively, lifting his palm from her ribcage and placing it over her mouth for her to kiss its calloused flesh. At the taunting of her tongue, he pinned her shoulders tightly between his knees.

"Say please..."


	45. FIN ou DEBUT

A/N: At first I didn't know if I should post this onto cherish, but I decided I'd like to put a happy finale onto Gratuitous so that we get some semblance of a denouement here.

Oo((8))oO

They lay enraptured in each other's arms under a canopy of stars. Barren branches stretched up their intricate wooden lace barbs into the sweet blanket of the night. The air lived with a life all its own, a breezeless motion bringing vitality to the heart of stillness.

The intertwined pair were both in flowing velvet robes of midnight blue, shadows blurring into the edges of darkness. Only the whites of their faces, hands and busts shone out with the borrowed illumination of searing moonlight.

He had taken her out to a hidden wood many miles from the castle gates. Here only the woodsprites dared to roam. Yet, on this night, the fierce clarity of heaven's stars shunned all signs of habitation, that is, all except for the recently joined couple whose tender rustlings stirred the obsidian silence into wordless rejoicing.

She was his, as she always had been. And he was hers. Both had dreamed for years of life conjoint. At last, heaven had smiled upon their weary hearts and offered them the honeyed chalice of nuptial union.

Her head lay folded into his breast, while his hands worked their way methodically through her disheveled tresses. She could feel her being fuse with the energy emanating from his core. Tendrils of his love reached out, around and through her trembling essence. Floating in a cloud of mystical ecstasy, her body spoke in simple sighs at the feast of his tenderness welling from each unassuming caress.

They had reached a place beyond all blind passion, beyond all self-consuming desire. This was the house of true union. Not the naïve, thoughtless and mostly fortuitous sort of casual communion. Rather, their newfound union bore witness to a long journey of trials, thwarted hopes, throttled yearnings, burning prayers, and the long and humbling test of time. Here at last, they had entered the temple of mutual awe and gratitude, where two breaths merge as one against the all consuming tide of the cosmos. Their abode was now the sanctuary of peace and divine indwelling.

Sarah laughed as Jareth drew a slender hand down her warm cheek.

"If I believed in such things, I would say that in another life I met you and prayed to God to walk as your companion for the rest of eternity. And I suppose it is all right for me to speak of servanthood, slavehood, too. As long as we realize we are slaves and servants of God, and that sometimes serving God includes in a special way serving the one beside you."

He kissed her.

"I'm not afraid of forever, you know. Life, death, the worlds to come—it's all one. And I am infinitely grateful to know you are my companion and that I am yours."

He kissed her again.

"I've never imagined eternity with another. My soul could not see it until it saw you. Until it came to recognize the soul you carry within your sacred breast."

They kissed.

"And I tell you, I can feel it. I can feel how life calls out to us, from us. A wise man told me once that when a man looks at his wife-to-be he can see his children following after her in his mind's eye. I never understood it. But sometimes I feel as if a soul is asking for us to help it into existence. Can you believe it?"

He folded her tightly in his arms, humming a moment before whispering a poem into her ear.


	46. This I ask of You

Goblin King,

I think I've found you now.

I think I know what I have to do.

There's just one thing I ask of you:

Please guide me on this quest,

Help me to give us both our best.

Remind me you're at my side-

Behind a crystal's gaze you hide,

So I can't see but have only trust,

Trust that you love and that I must

Solve this labyrinth to find you.

And when it seems my strength is through,

Or I've forgotten your love is ever true,

Remind me again, and again,

Until at last I come to you.

This, my King, I ask of you.


End file.
